


Sunrise Dressed Like Dusk

by champagne_enema



Series: Damaged Goods [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Biting, Breathplay, Friends With Benefits, Fuckbuddies, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 12:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14105478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/champagne_enema/pseuds/champagne_enema
Summary: “Wanna fuck?”Ofcoursehe wants to fuck. He will nevernotwant to see Lance impaled on his lap, or sweaty underneath him, or caging him in andpounding.Shiro thinks it's because he's a sex addict. Somehow every time he sees Lance all he can do is think with his crotch. Like a pavlonian response. Maybe he's just addicted to sex withLance.He shrugs at the slightly shorter boy, all nonchalant and cool, face almost bored, like he doesn't stiffen in his pants at the prospect. He's at least at half chub justthinkingabout sex with Lance.Desperate.“Sure, why not?”





	Sunrise Dressed Like Dusk

**Author's Note:**

> apparently I write smut when I'm high???? who knew???
> 
> should be writing for [Chaotic Disposition](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13830090) but I was craving some shance smut so yeah,, 
> 
> also this is part of a series I've been working on, but you don't have to read the previous work to understand//
> 
> title from Daft Pretty Boys by Bad Suns

Shiro knows he's high off his ass.

Like, he just _knows._ The way Lance acts, somehow erratic yet apathetic all at once, kinda slurred and groggy as he bounces on the balls of his feet. He can smell the pot like he's saturated in it, like he doused his clothes in the shit and bathed with it.

Puffy red eyes meet his own, murky sky clashes with crisp ash, _zap._

“Wanna fuck?”

Of _course_ he wants to fuck. He will never _not_ want to see Lance impaled on his lap, or sweaty underneath him, or caging him in and _pounding_.

Shiro thinks it's because he's a sex addict. Somehow every time he sees Lance all he can do is think with his crotch. Like a pavlonian response. Maybe he's just addicted to sex with _Lance._

He shrugs at the slightly shorter boy, all nonchalant and cool, face almost bored, like he doesn't stiffen in his pants at the prospect. He's at least at half chub just _thinking_ about sex with Lance.

 _Desperate_.

“Sure, why not?”

They move quickly; Lance has been to Shiro's apartment enough times to know the layout, to know how many steps it takes to get to Shiro's bedroom. Too many late night calls and spontaneous visits, banging on his door at ungodly hours with bloodshot eyes and bruises.

So he knows where the bedroom is. But instead of the comfy bed, Lance pushes Shiro on the couch and straddles him, grinding low and good, just enough pressure to make Shiro feel the tease.

He wants Shiro to _beg_ , the little freak.

Instead of begging like a good boy, he grins, sharp teeth and predatory. “What's got you all worked up, Loverboy?”

Lance kisses him instead of responding, open and wet and sloppy. His breath smells like Jack Daniels and nicotine.

“Honerva tried to get me to give her all of Lotor's shit again,” he mutters, quiet, but Shiro is pissed.

“Again?”

“Mhm. The hag can't take a _goddamn_ hint.”

They kiss again, Lance gyrating his hips sensually, panting against his mouth. Shiro grips his ass, squeezing before smacking the left cheek. Lance outright moans, breathy and half lidded.

He's such a pain slut. Masochistic, always begging Shiro to bruise him and hit him. Shiro's never been into that kinda shit, always been a vanilla missionary type of guy, but he'll do anything for Lance to sound like that.

“You want me to top this time?” Shiro asks in his ear, pausing from leaving Lance a nice hickey right underneath his earlobe. Lance shudders, bobs his head desperately. “Yeah, I miss feeling you inside me.”

 _Hooo boy_ , if that doesn't get his dick at full mast.

He fumbles to peel Lance's clothes off, nipping and tugging at the revealed skin, leaving him more bruised than before. Lance is still too skinny, his ribs poking out and collarbones prominent. It upsets Shiro when he takes time to think about it. He doesn't want Lance to starve himself, but whenever he mentions it Lance shuts down _. I don't nag you when you have bloody knuckles, so stay off my case._

He looks like a skeleton, but Shiro still wants him.

Lance is completely naked now, layed back and panting with his dick hard as a rock. Shiro debates sucking on it, but instead decides to focus on his thighs.

They're thin, but notheless meaty. He relishes in the feel of his flesh between his teeth, sucking on the tender skin and nibbling. Lance squirms, thin fingers burying themselves in the material of the couch. He takes his time, avoiding his dick and simply bruising his thighs. Something about leaving Lance all marked up, _mine mine mine_ , makes him feel euphoric. He wants to brand the boy so no one else can touch him.

He switches sides, going from right to left. Lance is panting, silent but obviously turned on. Shiro knows he loves the pain from each bite, judging by how his dick jolts and squirts precome everytime he bites down hard.

 _Fuck_ , he could come from just this.

When he's done, he pulls away to observe his work. _Damn_. Lance's thighs glistem from salva, dotted with bruises and hickies and bite marks like a painting.

He reaches for the end table, opening the drawer and pulling out the bottle of lube. “Condom?” he asks, and Lance shakes his head. They both went to get tested after last week, when they were so desperate they forgot a condom. Shiro had been terrified of catching something, so he made them go together. Thankfully, they're both clean.

He lubes up his fingers, tenderly poking Lance's furled asshole. He massages the outside, getting him to loosen up, before pressing a finger in to the knuckle.

He works him open slowly, relishing in the sounds Lance makes and his pinched expression. When he gets to three fingers, Lance grabs his wrist and makes eye contact.

“I'm good, I'm good. Just-- just hurry up and fuck me.”

Shiro unzips his jeans, pulling them down low enough to expose his dick. He presses his cock to his hole, teasing, before slowly pushing in. “I'm not delicate, asshole. Just put it in.”

He shoves the rest of the way, buried to the hilt and shuddering. He's tight around the rim, wet and warm and squeezing him just _right._

Lance wheezes, lip caught between his teeth and whimpering. “C'mon” he says, grabbing his arms for leverage. “Show me what you got, big guy,”

Shiro starts to move, pulling out to the tip and ramming back in, grunting at the friction. Lance throws his head back at the pace, shivering.

“Harder.”

Shiro obliges, groaning as he picks up the pace, grinding when his balls slapping against Lance's ass.

Sweat slicks his hair, both of their bodies. Something about fucking Lance with his own clothes on makes him feel like someone is going to walk in, like they shouldn't be doing this, and it's _sexy_ as hell. The thrill makes him jolt a bit faster, which makes Lance gasp.

“You're so hot like this,” Shiro moans. “warming my cock, making me feel so good. Such a good boy”

and that does it. Lance shudders again, moving his own hips as much as he can. “Takashi, ha-- harder!”

He moves faster, _slap slap slap_ , pistoning as hard as he can, making Lance sceam when he hits his prostate.

He hoists his legs over his shoulders, nearly folding Lance in half when he moves to claim his lips. They pant against each other, Lance licking into his mouth with abandon around desperate moans.

“Choke me, Takashi,”

he wraps his human hand around the other boy's throat, squeezing, and Lance jolts.

“Fuck, _fuck_.”

Lance scratches at his fingers, mouth wide and drooling, blown blue eyes rolling back.

Shiro lets go, Lance pants for air and moans. “Oh my God, you feel-- you feel so, _big_ . Fill me up, _haaa~,_ fill me up so good.

He wraps his fingers back around his neck, a little tighter this time, and Lance's fingers stray to his abandoned cock. He jerks in time of Shiro's movements, pliant and gasping for breath underneath him.

“Lance, _fuck_!”

Everything whites out as he chases his orgasm, fucking the boy underneath him through it, moving his hand from his neck to his cock, smearing precome over the shaft. It takes a few pumps to get Lance screaming, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut as he comes all over his own stomach.

“You're so hot,” is all Shiro can say, absorbed in Lance's face as he goes boneless.

He opens his eyes and winks. “I know you are, but what am I?”

Shiro snorts, pulling out and watching a drop of his seed dribble out of Lance's ass. Lance just lies there, breathing heavily, as Shiro gets up on wobby legs to grab a hand towel.

He cleans the cum from Lance's belly, planting a kiss underneath his belly button afterwards. Lance blinks at him dopily, smiling in thanks and making grabby hands at Shiro.

In the beginning, Lance would get off and then leave right after. Maybe smoke a cigarette, if he was feeling especially lazy. But lately he's been staying the whole night, wrapped around Shiro. Cuddling. Staying for breakfast the next morning.

 _It's just sex_ , he reminds himself as he climbs underneath Lance. The boy in question curls on top of him, commenting on his “comfy titties, perfect for laying on,”

“Can't believe you didn't take off your clothes,” he grumbles into Shiro's chest.

He shrugs. He'd been frantic, didn't think about taking them off. “Does that bother you?”

Lance bites his lip, moving his head to face Shiro. “Would it be weird if I said no?”

Shiro laughs. “We've all got weird kinks. I'm not judging,”

Lance kisses him, and his heart squeezes in his chest. _It's just sex_.

“Do you mind if I spend the night? I don't want to go home,”

“Of course not. But I have one condition.”

Lance raises his brow in a question, and Shiro moves to stand up, holding him in a princess carry. “We have to sleep in the bed. I refuse to get a kink in my neck because you wanted couch sex,”

Lance laughs, throwing his arms around Shiro's neck as they walk. “I feel like a damsel in distress. Take me away, sir Shiro!”

Shiro chuckles, tossing Lance onto the bed. He bounces, giggling and making himself comfy under the covers. “Anything for you, my prince,” Shiro plays along.

He likes the fantasy. Likes to imagine a life where they're both not fucked up, where they're actually together and not just sleeping around. Where Lance is a prince and Shiro is his noble night.

He pulls off his pants and shirt, leaving him in his boxers and climbing in beside Lance. The brunette curls around him, head on his chest.

“Goodnight, Takashi.” he mumbles. Shiro smiles, brain whirling, _it's just sex it's just sex it's just sex_ , and says “Goodnight, Lance.”

**Author's Note:**

> be my friend on [tumblr](https://smelly-milk.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/smellymilky?lang=en)  
>  I'm lonely


End file.
